


A Scotch Jig and a Measure

by nerdsandthelike



Category: Much Ado About Nothing - Shakespeare
Genre: Background Hero/Claudio, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 16:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1273354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdsandthelike/pseuds/nerdsandthelike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beatrice and Benedict's encounters before and after the war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Scotch Jig and a Measure

The revelry had been going on for hours when she approached him, smiling slyly and a bit wolfishly. He was standing alone at the edge of the dance floor, fully engaged in the music as she crept up behind him.

"Why Signor Benedick" she said softly in his ear. He jumped and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. "I expected you to be on the floor. Surely there is no shortage of women hoping to dance with the soon-to-be war hero. I have heard so many tales of your exploits, I dare say many women must want to see for themselves if you are as fine a dancer and as good a gentleman as they have heard."

"I do seem to find myself without a partner, Lady Beatrice," Benedick responded when he caught his breath. "I think you greatly exaggerate the power of these rumors. I can never seem to find a woman who is not otherwise occupied, and you are the first to approach me this whole evening."

"Perhaps the tales of your… exploits have frightened them off rather than drawn them to you," Beatrice raised a teasing eyebrow.

"I am rather curious now to know what these exploits are that give rise to rumors that would keep young women from me. I must discover what they are and cease them immediately."

"Or perhaps they know that you will die in these wars and do not wish to spend an evening with a man already dead," Beatrice responded lightly. "I have been told that the dead make for tedious conversationalists and wretched dancers."

"Perhaps," responded Benedick indignantly, "They know that I will not die, and that they must see me again when I return."

Beatrice laughed and stretched out her hand to him. "Well while we attempt to discover why the ladies have not swarmed you as they should, would you dance with me?"

"It would be my pleasure, Lady," he said suavely, kissing her hand and leading her onto the dance floor.

"So if I am to die in the wars before I return, why are you dancing with me? I am after all, merely a corpse in your estimation, and therefore worth neither your wit nor your excellent dancing," He finally asked as they danced."Do you believe me to be a better solider than the other women do?"

"No," she laughed again, "I believe you to be a better coward. I know you too well: when the other men charge forward, you will know the sensible thing to do and turn your horse the other way. I do expect to see you back, but I will eat all of your killing if you do manage to strike a blow."

"Well it is good to know you hold me in such high esteem as a solider. I am glad that my men have more confidence in me than you do, or they would never follow my orders."

"And that is exactly why I refuse to follow your orders!" Beatrice teased.

Benedick pulled her in closer and whispered in her ear, "So if the tales of my impending doom were not enough to keep you away, why are you here despite rumors of my… exploits? Or do you believe them to be false as well?"

"Oh no," she said in mock gravity, "those I hope to be true."

Benedick's mouth went dry and he swallowed quickly. "I cannot verify my exploits if I do not even know what I am accused of."

"Well," Beatrice smirked, "I did hear something about a Duchess and a very… upset Duke from a lady's maid that traveled through here a few weeks ago."

"Oh," said Benedick, "And what did they say about the Duchess?"

"That she enjoyed herself very much."

"Well, that she did."

Beatrice arched an eyebrow. "I'm not sure if I am willing to take such unreliable information. I heard from the lady's maid, but that was a servant's rumor, and you might just be making things up to scare away young women so that you won't have to dance."

"I would never dream of scaring you away. I don't believe that I am capable."

"Not if you continue to pursue this tactic. In fact, I would say that if you were trying to scare me, this whole conversation has been quite counter-productive."

"And if I had a different goal in mind?"

"It might be a bit more successful."

"My Lady Beatrice," he said in mock indignation, "surely you are not implying that I would be trying to rob a maid of her virtue."

"Signor Benedick," she said softly and matter-of-factly, "I am implying that it would not be a robbery."

Benedick almost stopped in his tracks, but the music and Beatrice's hand on his arm kept him spinning in the Scotch Jig. He was amazed that he managed to keep the panic out of his eyes. Nothing had ever prepared him for this situation. He had never in a million years expected that Beatrice would say such a thing, much less that intently.

"I… I…" Benedick stuttered, trying to form a coherent sentence.

"I am not Hero," Beatrice responded to a question that he hadn't asked; that he didn't know how to ask. Beatrice nodded her head over to where her cousin stood on the edge of the garden, her eyes intent on Claudio, who sat at a table of men, laughing and guffawing good naturedly. "We both can see what we want. She is content to admire from afar, but I," she leans in a little towards him, "I prefer to take it."

"This will not… this is not…" he said, futilely trying to be a gentleman in spite of himself.

"This is my decision," Beatrice said firmly. "We," she emphasized, "will do what we want."

"But you're-"

"A grown woman." She pressed up and kissed him, before loosening her grip on his shoulder and trailing her hand down his arm until she caught his fingers loosely in her palm. "Now, are you coming?"

Benedick nodded quickly and followed her as she pulled him out of the crowd and through the dark and silent house.

It was after midnight. The revelry had died. There was no longer music and only the last glimmers of the candles and bonfires glowed outside the window as Benedick awoke. He could not believe what had just happened. She had talked with him, she had approached him, she had danced with him, she had… well here he was. Benedick had never felt better, and Beatrice had found him. He hadn't had to down enough alcohol and gather up enough courage to approach her and use all of the tactics that had worked so well on the Duchess. Not, he thought, that they would ever work on a woman as charming and clever and savvy as Beatrice, but he would have had to try. It might be his last chance he had to do something. He had searched for a kiss, maybe a token she would give him out of pity, for the solider going off to war, but this, this he had never imagined would ever happen. She desired him as he desired her. He knew that he had to leave for the war, but surely with her prayers and thoughts and love he would return to her and they would-

Reality interrupted Benedick's imaginings like a cold bucket of water on that warm night. She would never marry him. He was delusional. She had called him a coward, and he could obviously never hold her attentions. She had used him. It was nothing unusual; Benedick had done it to many women, both at court and in Padua. There was nothing shameful in it; it was the way of life for a person who never planned to marry- Oh.

In a second all the plans that Benedick had made crumbled, and he felt his eyes cloud up. He took a deep breath and, with the practiced air of a strategist he changed his plans, reconsidered the situation. She never planned to marry, and she had heard his jibes towards the married members of the company. She had not sought a life partner; she thought she found a kindred spirit: someone who understood and could be here today, and gone tomorrow. Someone who wouldn't trouble her after it was all done. Of course. That was logical; to think otherwise was foolish. They had shared a pleasant night together as bachelors were wont to do, but he would leave tomorrow. In fact, it would be easiest to leave now, before she awoke. It would save her the awkwardness of the morning, and save him the pain of it. Breathing in her scent one last time, Benedick slid out of the bed, gathered his things, and tiptoed back to the barracks. He slid into his cold, hard bunk, curled up into a ball, and tried not to cry.

The next morning Beatrice awoke to a cold bed and an empty house. The soldiers had left and there was no sign of Benedick anywhere. She looked for a note, but none was to be found. Slowly, she resigned herself to the reality: he had left her. He had used her, just like the Duchess, and all the other ladies. She knew what she was getting into. That was how he did it, but she had hoped. Her hopes rose every time a servant entered her chambers that day, praying that it was someone with a message from Benedick, but by sunset she had lost even that hope. Then she swore, just as Benedick had done, alone in his bunk the night before, that she would never marry. Men, she now knew, were deceivers ever.

* * *

The orchestra is loud and fast, but they are dancing slowly, not saying a word. If everyone else weren't so caught up in their own lives, someone surely would have remarked on the irony of the two of them staying silent. Talk themselves mad, indeed. Of course, tomorrow would be a different story, and everyone at the wedding breakfast could heart the argument they had over where they would live and where they would honeymoon before that, but tonight it was quiet. They did not need any words. Silence is, after all, the perfectest herald of joy. But even in their joy their silence could not last forever, and Benedick finally broke it.

"You know, I- it's all so sudden," he whispered quietly, and she hummed in agreement against his shoulder. "I just," and he sounded like a scared little boy for just a moment, "are you sure?"

Beatrice pulled back, holding his face in her hands and looking into his eyes. "Yes."

"But, you swore to never marry, and I don't want you to presume; I mean it was a very public place, and I- you may have felt obliged to" his voice catches, "accept me out of pity or to preserve your honor-"

Beatrice raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You know better than most that I have little honor to preserve. I'm not Hero. Whether it was proper or not, no one was fooled." Her voice hardened, "They know why I was so hurt when you left last time. What you really won when you played with false dice." She laughed bitterly. "No one ever said it, of course, how could they? And my uncle was, kind and did not- abandon me or force me into a nunnery. He protected me, but he knew. They all knew. Subtlety has never been our strongest suit."

He laughed at that remark.

"But, Benedick," she continued more seriously, and with more tenderness than before, "I knew what I was doing then and I know what I did today. I would never have climbed into bed with you, or agreed to marry you, if that wasn't exactly what I wanted. You should know that." She smiled again, "I have always been the smarter one of us in this relationship."

"Yes," he laughed "after all I am short four of my five wits."

"You lost them to me the same time I lost my heart to you."

"And will you return them to me now that I have returned your heart?"

"You have returned my heart to me? I can certainly feel it beating, and yet I do not think it belongs to me."

"No?"

"No, it seems you have won it of me again."

"Though perhaps I was using fairer dice."

"No, but it was a better wager."

"Really?"

"Yes, I have no need of your wits, I have more than enough of my own, but your heart… well that I might find some use for."

"Well that you have." They laughed and danced for a few minutes longer, when he spoke again, even more quietly, "You always did, you know."

"Hmm?"

"Have my heart."

"That wasn't quite how it seemed to me when you-"

"I know. I'm sorry," he said evenly, like a mantra, and kissed her forehead, holding her tighter in their measure. "I was- sometimes still am, a scared, terrified really. You are… a whirlwind. You are strong and witty and amazing and that night was incredible. I could scarcely believe that you were looking at me, much less in bed with me. What was I to do?"

"Stay? Talk to me? Trust that I would be there in the morning?"

"Now that I could never fathom, though that is exactly where I hope you will be tomorrow morning."

"Well if you will have a bit of confidence in me and my own decisions, then I assure you that you will always find me there. And you, where will you be?"

"Wherever you wish me." Beatrice raised an eyebrow, while Benedick continued theatrically, "For your approval, I could go on an errand to the Antipotes, fetch you a toothpicker from the furthest inch of Asia," he spoke louder and began to gesticulate wildly, performing for Beatrice as she laughed, "bring you the length of Prester John's foot, fetch you a hair of the Great Cham's beard. To prove my love, I would go on any embassage to the Pygmies-"

"Or tomorrow morning could find you somewhere brand new. Somewhere no man has ever been," she said excitedly.

"What foreign land would you have me explore?"

"I would have you at my side when I awoke. I know that you have seen my bed before, but I do not ever recall you having had the chance to see it in the morning light. It is really quite a lovely view."

"It could never be as lovely as the view I currently have." Beatrice looked at him disapprovingly, so he quickly added "but it is something I am quite willing to see for myself. I must see, after all, if the view is quite as spectacular as you seem to believe."

They fell again into a companionable silence, both lost in the idea of each other.

"So you do?" Benedick again broke the silence, "So you will stand by your decision this afternoon and have me? Not just tonight, or even tomorrow morning, but forever?"

"Forever is a long time, and we are not as naïve as Claudio and Hero. You and I know too much of the world to enter into this with their wide-eyed innocence. The world will change us, that we know from experience, and we will fight-" Benedick opened his mouth to protest, "oh yes we will. We have always fought and I do not think that all our love will change that. Nor should it. I could never love a man who would not spar with me. But, I love you. More than in friendly recompense, I swear. And I will work to keep this relationship alive as long as you will. I cannot promise you the moon and stars-"

"But I don't need the moon and stars."

"No, I don't think that we are quite moon and stars kind of people. We don't need that ostentation in our love, but I can give you my heart and my vow to do everything I can to make this marriage as loving and happy as Hero and Claudio's, perhaps even more… Will that satisfy you, my Lord?"

"I don't believe I have a choice," Benedick's voice regained its teasing tone.

"No," she responded evenly, with only a hint of a smile, "no you don't."

"Well then, I suppose that even the savage bull must bear the yoke, and since I am here at your cart, yoke firmly in place, where would you go, my Lady?"

"Well, my darling bull, it is not quite the Antipodes, but the view from my chamber window is quite lovely, if you remember…"

Benedick nodded and smiled. He kissed her quickly, and set off, hand in hand with her, towards the silent house.


End file.
